


Walk A Mile In My Shoes I Bet Your Feet Will Bleed Too

by averzierlia



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Incest, M/M, Multi, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 08:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averzierlia/pseuds/averzierlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for <a>carnivors</a> <a href="http://carnivors.livejournal.com/16257.html">incest comment ficathon</a> - Vampire Diaries, Damon/Stefan(/Elena), a kiss with a fist is better than none</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk A Mile In My Shoes I Bet Your Feet Will Bleed Too

She’s just so _angry_. Stefan is still running off every night to fuck knows where and coming back drunk with human blood and there isn’t anything she can _do about it_. It isn’t even the concern of a significant other, anymore – she feels the same way about this as she does when she sees Jer running off with a bottle of pills. Damon hasn’t lifted a single fucking finger to help his brother, either, which just pisses her off more.

And it’s why she’s surprised at the plan he’s just run past her.

“You want to do _what_?” she asks, incredulously. She had thought nothing Damon could say would faze her anymore, but apparently she was wrong.

“I want you,” and here he makes an elaborate gesture that encompasses her body and indicates he thinks she’s slow, which, no. No, she isn’t going to rise to that, there are more important things here. Like the fact that Damon has apparently lost his damn mind, “to come with me and order me to beat up Stefan.”

“Ya, I was hoping I heard you wrong,” Elena says, sitting down on her bed. Damon doesn’t move from leaning next to her window, which is good because right now she’s really interested in staring blankly at him.

“It’s what Katherine used to do,” Damon says, ignoring her muttered ‘that makes me feel so much better’. “Well, actually, she ordered me to beat him up then fuck him, but we can skip that second part.”

Elena thinks she quits breathing because what the hell. She’d known that Katherine had fucked up their relationship but she hadn’t realized that she’d _literally_ fucked up their relationship.

“Breathe,” Damon orders, and she does, used to following his orders when he speaks in that tone of voice. It usually involves him saving her life.

“And you think this will…help?” Elena asks, leery. Damon’s nod has her nodding in response. “Then let’s go, because I’m willing to try anything at this point.”

-

The house is silent and dead when they arrive, Damon’s car rolling quietly up the eerily silent drive.

“Is he home?” she asks, because she isn’t sure what she’ll do if they have to wait.

Damon pops his car door open and takes a deep breath.

“He’s home,” he says darkly. He gets out and flashes over to her side of the car before she can do more than get her hand on the handle, opening her door and helping her smoothly out. She glances at him and her question of what he’s doing dies in her throat at the look on his face.

She spends the walk into the house, to Stefan, thinking about what she’s about to do. She can’t decide if she’s making a mistake or not, taking part in this. She’s going to find out in a moment, obviously, but that doesn’t help right _now_. She takes a fortifying breath.

“Oh, isn’t this just cute. Are you staging an intervention?” Stefan’s voice breaks her reverie, and she glances up to see him perched on the counter, a smear of blood drying on his cheek. And hesitation she’d had leaves her at the sight.

“Damon,” she says coolly, keeping her eyes on Stefan.

“Yes?” he asks, sounding courteous and interested, like she could ask him to bring him Stefan’s head on a platter and he would.

“I think your brother would benefit from not having fangs for a little while,” she says, struggling to keep her heartbeat even. She doesn’t want to ruin this by letting Stefan know how afraid this makes her.

Stefan frowns, opening his mouth to possibly spout some variation of ‘ha ha very funny’, but then Damon is moving, slamming him into the wall and taking advantage of his surprise to pry his mouth open.

“Do you want me to knock them out or pull them out?” Damon asks, like it’s an everyday occurrence. Like his brother isn’t struggling to get out of his grip. Like Elena is actually the one in charge of this situation.

“I don’t know. What do you think, Stefan?” Elena asks, her voice unconsciously mimicking Katherine’s, the one basis of comparison that she has here, her only data point.

“Fuck you,” Stefan manages to grit out, snapping at Damon’s fingers.

“Knock them out,” she orders, and can’t help the thrill of satisfaction when Damon follows her order, pulling back his fist and slamming it into Stefan’s jaw. His head snaps back into the wall, leaving a dent, and he shakes his head, dazed. He recovers quickly though, sneering and spitting out blood. He bears his fangs, eyes red.

“Gonna have to hit harder than that,” Stefan snarls, and Damon grins.

“With pleasure,” Damon says, stepping away from Stefan. Stefan lunges, but Damon’s fist meets his jaw again, sending him crashing into the wall again. He coughs and spits blood again, and this time something makes a tinkling sound when it hits the floor.

“That’s one,” Damon says, almost indifferent. Elena would believe he was, actually, if not for the way his fangs were digging lightly into his bottom lip and his eyes were wide and red, tracking Stefan’s movement.

Stefan’s response is a snarl, and he lunges again. Elena debates telling him that it was a horrible idea before remembering she’s pretending to be in charge.

“That was stupid of you, Stefan,” she says, and her voice is breathy. It surprises her but Damon doesn’t bat an eye. Stefan is too busy picking himself up off the floor to pay attention.

“Pin him down,” she orders, and Damon sweeps his legs out from under him before he’s all the way up, then drops down on top of him, pinning Stefan down with his body. He pins Stefan’s wrists above his head with one hand and wraps the other around his throat, then looks to Elena for further instruction. Elena thinks it really shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

“He’s bleeding,” she says, and can’t help but smirk when Damon glances down reflexively. “Don’t let it go to waste.”

Damon glances up at her, a question in his eyes, but he doesn’t seem startled so Elena only raises an eyebrow. He glances back down at Stefan, holding himself unnaturally still for a few moments before leaning down and licking the blood from his brother’s chin.

It’s like someone flipped a switch – Stefan stops fighting Damon’s grip and arches into him instead, body one long gorgeous line. Elena can’t help but gasp as Damon’s tongue traces the trail of blood up Stefan’s chin and into his mouth.

“Would you like some?” Damon says, looking at her again, shifting his grip on Stefan so that he’s laying more comfortably in between Stefan’s legs and moving his hand off Stefan’s throat. Stefan makes a whining sound at the loss of contact, but they both ignore him. She walks over and kneels down next to them without really thinking about it, and then Damon kisses her. Stefan’s blood is hot on her tongue and she licks at it greedily, not thinking about the consequences. Damon makes a desperate noise into her mouth and she tangles fingers in his hair, pulling them apart. She looks down at Stefan and Damon follows her gaze. He’s panting and straining against Damon’s hold.

“We’re moving to the bedroom,” she decides, “Stefan, go.”

Damon lets him go when Elena says his name, moving away enough that Stefan can get out from under him. Stefan lays there for a moment before scrambling up and stumbling up the stairs towards – his room probably. But she doesn’t want that.

“Damon’s room,” she calls, getting up herself and heading that way. She hears Damon following her. He’s a warm presence at her back, and she half expects him to question this change of plans. But he doesn’t and they make it too his room to see Stefan starting to strip.

“No,” she says, and he stops immediately, turning his eyes to her. They’re blown, red and black, and it should scare her, especially the way he’s been acting lately but it doesn’t. She walks over to him, slowly, watching the way he watches her hips move with each step, and runs her fingers along the edge of his shirt.

“Let go,” she orders, and he drops his hands to his sides.

“No, up,” she says, and when he does she pulls his shirt over his head, letting it drop then dropping her fingers to unbuckle his belt. She doesn’t bother stripping it off him, just gets it open, unbuttons his jeans and slips them off of him. He steps out of them without complaint, and gets on the bed when she gestures.

Damon is behind her now, hands resting on her hips as they watch Stefan situate himself on the bed.

“You sound nothing like her,” Damon says suddenly, dragging her shirt over her head. “In case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t,” Elena says, and it isn’t even a lie.

Because they’re not lovers – they’re family. And family takes care of each other, and that’s exactly why she’s doing this.

Damon reaches around and starts undoing her jeans, and she smiles at Stefan. She’s gratified by the haze in his eyes clearing.

They might all just make it through this alive.


End file.
